Katherin Hassan-Clarke and Esther Quinn, young lovers living on the coast of Riga, Latvia, face the terrifying realisation that their home is no longer safe when a deadly zombie pathogen ravages Eastern Europe. Fleeing their home before they are for...
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"Jesus, fuck!" Katherin huffed as she opened the passenger door, sliding into the vacant seat.
Morgana had pulled the steering wheel to the left, narrowly missing the tree that they had been hurtling towards. The action had caused the car to tilt dangerously on its side, threatening to roll if they drove any faster.
Katherin had almost been crushed underneath the wheel. She'd tucked her legs to her chest at the last moment, grunting as her arms had to take her weight.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Morgana replied.
She scrubbed her face with the back of her palm, begging herself to stay awake. Her vision was beginning to blur, tiredness setting in. She hadn't thought to bring her glasses with her to meet Ttod. He always had her spare pair on him, just in case.
The stench of blood wafted from Katherin's side of the car.
"You're filthy," Morgana told Katherin, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
Katherin shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. She pulled the metal bat from her jacket, dropping it to her feet.
"You're welcome," she responded.
The horde was following the car. They inched forward at an agonisingly slow pace, their patience outweighing their need to feed.
It was curious. Katherin had seen the zombies run before. She didn't understand why they didn't run now when the zombies could easily overpower them.
Morgana tugged on the steering wheel, wincing as the wheels squealed in protest. She slammed her foot on the accelerator, eyeing the small torchlight that indicated Jaxx and Gwynth's presence on the hill.
"Don't tell Jaxx about the bat," Katherin muttered. "He'll kill me."
"He doesn't have to know," Morgana responded, though she glanced at Katherin's blood-splattered torso.
Jaxx would know. He wouldn't need anyone to tell him. The evidence was glaringly obvious.
Morgana slammed her foot on the break, screeching to a stop in front of Jaxx and Gwynth.
Gwynth climbed into the back seat. She slammed the door behind her, shuffling into the footwell, her leg dragging behind her stiffly. It looked pitiful. Gwynth's jeans had been torn, exposing the blue-black bruises littered around her injury. A stick had been fastened tightly to her leg; a makeshift splint.
Jaxx opened the passenger door, squeezing in beside Katherin.
Morgana put the car in reverse, turning around and heading back down the hill.
"We found a medical kit," Jaxx explained, his hand clutching the seat as Morgana drove off erratically. His other hand fumbled for his back pocket, pulling out a roll of bandages.
